We gathered
chairs encircled
defensively against grief
quietly fingering memories
as the album changed hands
Your hands changed now
to those that can no longer
hold me
I saw you with your mother
and the circle of mothers' days
and daughters
l heard you
in knowing narrative
of younger and youngest
Voices that sang with love
Voices that broke with pain
Held together by shared stories
of teas in the garden
The dress your mother made
that you straight off
(to adorn your new straw hat)
tore that first wearing
climbing the grape arbor
( you plucked an early flower that
tantalized you from a neighbor's fence)
"One year on Mother's Day"
I excitedly burst in
"I planted flowers for her
along the walk"
Today we left you in flowers
each dropped a peach of a rose
upon the sheen of mahogany
and each turned to another
bonded firmly to family
formerly distant
now drawn together
We gathered
our chairs encircled
passing memories
each to another
in the circle of
Mothers' days
**This poem was written as a submission for a poetry contest last Mother's Day. It won first prize**
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Mothers Days
Comments
Re: Mothers Days
by
Anonymous
on Sun 14 May 2006 11:01 AM EDT | Permanent Link
A wonderful evocation of Mother's Days as they were. You succeed in breaking through the mundane to a more vivid and immediate experience, allowing us to be with you as you bring the memories to mind. Thank you for providing the counterpoint to all the cloying, sentimental and shallow Hallmark poems there will be on this day.
Re: Re: Mothers Days
Thank you for your lovely comment. 'Tis true, I suppose, I am like the Anti-Hallmark.
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